NO SOUND WITHOUT SILENCE
by SawyerDonovan
Summary: Her skin was already damp, hot, he could feel her trembling. His judgment, his need for control vanished as her breath caught on his name - daring him, challenging him to move. He could no longer resist her. It only took one moment, one bet to for their lives to change - love, betrayal, loyalty - all put to the test in his quest to reclaim what was once his. ERICxTRIS, AU, MATURE.
1. BROKEN ARROW

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Divergent, the book or characters, or The Script, the music and lyrics. Also the characters appearing in this story resemble the characters from the movie

 **"She says better to have and not need, than to need and not have  
No matter what the cost, it's better to have loved and lost  
Have you ever met a man who never loved at all?"**

The Script, Broken Arrow

TRIS PRIOR  
FRIDAY - 11:30 P.M.  
ERIC COULTER'S APARTMENT0

"I've dreamed of this." His voice was rough and raspy, dark in his heat as he whispered the words against her bare skin. "Of you."

She knew that there would be no stopping this moment. No going back.

It would not end with just a simple kiss.

Her skin was already damp, hot, he could feel her trembling as his eyes narrowed into a molten blue. He could no longer resist her.

His judgment, his need for control vanished as her breath caught on his name - daring him, challenging him to move.

His lips were soft, his mouth hot as he slanted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. She whimpered a sound of delight, sucking at it, curling her own upwards and he shuddered, cupping her from behind, lifting her against his thick erection.

He ran his hands along her spine, gently gathering the material, raising it until the silk slithered to the bedroom floor leaving her warm and naked beneath it.

Eric Coulter drew back to look at her, all of her, the honey hair that tumbled over her shoulders, ending below the curve of her breast. She was so small, so delicate; he knew he could span her tapered waist with his hands before it gently flared out to the slender hips.

"You're so beautiful," his voice was strained and she shivered as his rough skin brushed over her.

He gathered her hair in his hand, drawing her head back to expose the long line of her throat, his tongue tracing over the frantically beating pulse, nipping along the sensitive tendons.

Tris Prior trailed her fingertips down and over his shoulders, sleek muscles contracting as her hand drifted lower past his waistband, cupping his heavy weight in her hands.

The world tilted crazily and she found herself imprisoned in the grip of a man whose strength she could never measure as he walked with her towards the bed, pushing her to the comforter, smoothing her leggings down her long legs until she lay naked, her hair wildly spread around her shoulders, reaching for him.

He pulled his shirt off, fingers working at the fastening of his pants until he stood bare before her, blue eyes darkened to navy, his naked shaft thickly thrusting into the air, painfully swollen.

Her eyes grew wide, her tongue nervously licking her plump lower lip, ignoring the sharp sensations tightening between her thighs.

"Eric, there's something I need to tell you."

Eric didn't want to know. He didn't want to hear about any of her other lovers. No matter how many there had been.

He would be the only one she remembered.

"No, it's not important." he said, slowly leaning forward, letting his body touch hers, lightly pressing down on her, and his mouth closed over her in a lingering tenderness that was devastating. "I don't want to know."

His lips left hers, slid hotly down her throat to her breast, snipping delicately, sucking hard. She sank into a dark pool of need as his mouth moved over her trembling stomach muscles, running over the heavily swollen lips, his mouth hot and wet, his tongue swirling seemingly smiling against her as he gripped her bottom, pulling her tighter, stabbing deep within.

"Eric," she demanded, her legs shifting. "Now dammit."

He laughed darkly, her hips reaching for his as he mounted her, his naked flesh searing hers, guiding the broad head of his penis over her slick flesh. She felt his hardness, the strength of his arms enfolding her, the scrub-board of his stomach rubbing against her, her mind focusing as he forced his slow, inexorable penetration.

She gasped, feeling painfully stretched, almost beyond pleasure, gasping as he ripped through the thin barrier.

A virgin.

Eric shook his head in disbelief, pulling out of her body, staring down into her dazed eyes in shock.

"You're a virgin."

"Yes," she whimpered the word. "Eric, please."

Her hips twisted against his, her slim hands sleeked over his broad shoulders and down the taunt muscles, sinking her nails into his back as she arched up, breaking his fragile control.

"You can handle it," the whispered words were in her ear. "I won't hurt you."

A rough, deep growl sounded in his throat as he rode her hard, his hips recoiled and advanced, thrusting him deep within her and her own rocked back and forth, unable to control the movement. One hand grasped her breast, squeezing, pulling the nipple to his mouth, clamping down and sucking in time to his thrusts. She felt the thick ride of his penis head and her inner muscles clamped down as she clawed at his back, frantic for release from the incredible tension in her body.

The edges of reality blurred and swirled.

He had never been less gentle with a woman, not with his head reeling, his entire body exploding in savage pleasure. She was hot and tight, silky, wet…and his.

Just his.

She burning, shuddering wildly, the intense coil of tension releasing, milking him, a fierce sensation pulsating through her body as Troy gripped her hips to anchor himself, shoving deeper before bucking violently, hotly spurting into her wetness. Shivering she bit his chest to muffle her cries of completion, but his head fell back, damp hair stuck to his forehead, a guttural moan harshly rumbling in his chest.

No one else. Ever. His.

Their fire had fed one another.

When Eric slowly withdrew from her as she murmured a wordless protest, but he rolled onto his side and pulled her into his arms, cradling her head on his shoulder, slowly stroking her from shoulder to hip, reveling in her skin texture, in her graceful cures, everything about her.

This was different.

He had never been so open, so careless.

"You okay?" he asked softly watching as her heavy eyelids fluttered and gently she smiled, burying her nose in his chest as if embarrassed by her actions. "Are you blushing?"

"Shut up," she hissed, her cheeks reddening further but she shrieked with laughter as he began to tickle her bare side. "Stop it, you bully!"

He nuzzled his nose against her, pressing gentle kisses against her lips as he sprawled on his back and she curled into his side. She smoothed her hand down his chest, enjoying the feeling of the muscle ripple beneath her gentle touch, before resting over his heart.

"I love you." Tris whispered the words so softly she would almost wondered if he had heard her until his entire body stiffened.

"Again." he demanded.

Eric needed to hear the words again, not knowing what the morning would bring.

"I love you." Tris sighed, her eyes drifting closed, her body slumping into an exhausted slumber. "Always have."

"I'm sorry." Eric's whispered words were met by only silence.

* * *

TRIS PRIOR:  
SATURDAY - 8:35 A.M.  
ERIC'S APARTMENT

Tris woke, sunlight pouring into the room as she burrowed her head deeper into the pillow, groaning in protest. Her body was exhausted, aching deliciously between her thighs, and she could not stop a small smile from spreading across her lips.

She had finally slept with the man she had been in love with for over three years.

She was finally Eric Coulter's property.

Officially marked even though most of the Dauntless already believed that she was.

She hummed quietly, pulling herself from the bed, slipping into her discarded leggings and Eric's black sweater he had left behind in his search for morning breakfast.

She was definitely pleased she had allowed Christina to throw a party for her twenty-first birthday.

She had gotten exactly what she wanted.

Tris skipped down the stairs, twisting her long hair into a ponytail, stopping when she heard Eric's voice coming from the front door before he could see her as Uriah walked into her view standing beside Eric and Will.

"Honestly, Eric, I didn't think you would be able to pull off the impossible," Uriah said, slapping his hand down on Eric's shoulder as he handed a stack of receipts of points transferred to his account. "Consider it a job well done."

"What have I told you before, Uriah? Never doubt your leader. No matter what the bet maybe." Eric laughed, folding the slips of paper and sliding them into his back pocket. "A few smiles, say the right words and it turns into an easy earning of points for a night of fucking Dauntless's ice queen."

Tris stumbled back into the hallway as they shut the front door behind them, her hand clamping over her mouth, her stomach clenching in protest, bile rising up her throat as she scrambled to the bathroom.

She had been a bet.

She was the worst kinds of a fucking fool.

Her laughter was hollow, she had believed his conceited arrogance was simply the part he played as the Dauntless leader. That she was different was different from the rest. She was the one he would always protect.

But she was wrong, she had allowed her emotions to blur her judgment.

She should have known it was a game.

Pulling herself from the bathroom floor, drawing in deep shuddering breathes as tried her best not to think. If she thought, she would feel, if she felt she would break.

She left his apartment, racing to her best friends apartment, pushing in the key-code. Her eyes were bright with tears, her body trembling as she collapsed on the bed, startling Christina from her sleep.

"Tris, what's wrong?" she placed a hand on Tris's shoulder, feeling her friend shudder softly, her control fragile.

"I need...I need to borrow some points, Chris," her words devoid of any emotion. "Can you help me?" 

* * *

TRIS PRIOR:  
SATURDAY - 8:57 A.M.  
THE PIT

Tris strode into the cafeteria area, her expression empty as Christina closely followed, her face flushed in angered pity as she glared at Eric, Will and Uriah who sat at the table, now eating breakfast.

"Morning baby," Tris said the words, lowering herself into Eric's lap, her mouth covering his, her tongue sliding over his, teasing, caressing his response. Eric made a sound of pleasure, disappointed when she pulled back, lightly sucking his lower lip, before standing once again.

"You don't have to move, darling," he protested, reaching out to clasp her hips, holding her close. "Sit."

"Well given the circumstances I thought I should be standing when I give your applause."

"What are you talking about?" Confusion etched his tone, feeling a shiver run through her. "What's wrong?"

"Here," she acted as if she had not heard him as she held out the the transfer receipt for the points, dropping it on the table. "I'm assuming you got at least a a thousand points from each person that placed the bet. Christina and I both wanted in. Sp here's your winnings, stud."

Eric's face rapidly paled, fear condensing in his stomach, his eyes closed as he pressed his lips together, drawing the lower between his teeth and he shook his head in disbelief.

This was not happening, she could not have heard them this morning. It was not possible.

But she had.

"I can explain." The words were hoarse, an involuntary sound of regret.

The blank, empty dark void that consumed Tris's eyes taunted him, mocking him, the possibility of what could have been teased him, taunted him with all that he had refused to believe, all that he hungered to believe with an intensity that left him shaken.

He had won the fucking bet and lost her in return.

"Explain what? That you're an excellent actor? Because you are. You had me fooled." she ground out, her voice low in her fury as she struggled to maintain control. "Explain that the boys I considered my friends since Initiation bet you could fuck me. Please explain that." Tris glanced around as they each lowered their faces ashamed. "And boys you would be proud. He did fuck me. He fucked me until I screamed."

"Tris, enough," he surged to his feet, not wanting her to say anymore about what he had been his for a few minutes, reaching out grasping her arms.

"Did he get extra because I was virgin?"

She slapped him, the sound sharp. It happened before she realized she was going to do it. She had never felt such blind rage before and she had put all her strength in the blow. The blow whipped his head around, but he remained solidly on his feet. His cheek a dark red, his upper lip split.

"I can't believe I let you touch me." She pushed away, rushing from the room as Eric moved to followed.

"Back off, Coulter." Christina hissed, holding out a finger in warning. "Leave her alone. It's the only warning I'll give you. Will," she addressed her boyfriend who was watched the scene unfold with dread. He had never intending for this to happen. "Needless to say, our relationship is officially done."

Christina founded Tris huddled on the floor on the living room floor of her apartment. She stared into her dark eyes, wincing at the anguish she felt radiating, hot tears slowly welled in her eyes. She knelt down on the floor next to her, drawing the tiny blonde's head into her lap as she gently stroked her hair trying in vain to comfort her.

"Tris," She said quietly, "I'm here."

Frantically Tris sought out her strength as harsh sobs spilled forth. "Oh god, it feels like I can't breathe."


	2. BREAKEVEN

**Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! This chapter sort of jumps around but next chapter some smutty goodness to come!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything related to Divergent or The Script**

 **"I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing.  
Just prayin' to a god I don't believe in."**

\- The Script, BREAKEVEN

SOMETIME IN THE NEAR FUTURE  
TWO WEEKS LATER 4:30 P.M.  
ERIC COULTER

"Well, that was pathetic. " Eric observed coldly as he paced in front of the panting initiates crumbled on the black mat, his hands clasped behind his back, violence and rage burning in the depths of his blue eyes. His expression was closed, his face bleak and unyielding, his skin pulled tautly against his chiseled features, his lips compressed into a thin line in his annoyance. "You should go ahead and give up now. Quit. It would be less humiliating."

In the two weeks since Tris run from him, disappearing into the night, he had seamlessly returned to his role of ruthless leader. Cold, unforgiving, a living nightmare in the training of the new initiates at a brutal pace, punishing each for their weakness.

Nothing had gone right in the time she had been gone. Not one damn thing.

His days and nights were haunted by her, dreams of the dampened slick golden flesh, moving frantically against and beneath one another, molten fire reflecting in the russet depths, clawing, moaning,pressing to be closer in exotic seduction.

He hadn't known it could be like that.

She was more than he imaged she would be. Softer, smoother, warmer.

Addictive.

She had been the only real thing he had ever known.

And she had been his.

For just that moment.

He rarely worried about consequences, and questioned his insticts even less. When he had felt the need to touch her, he had done so.

The bet be damned.

And now he was paying for it.

The expression that had darkened her eyes still haunted him, she looked ashen, broken knowing he had betrayed her.

As if he hadn't learned a damn thing in the past five years.

"Up. Let's fucking go again." he ordered, pulling himself from his thoughts, ignoring the groans he heard. "And this time do it right."

They staggered to their feet, swaying as they resumed their fighting stances and before he could call out his commands, a voice cut across his.

"Enough Eric."

"This is none your concern, Four." Eric's tone was annoyed as Tris's ex-boyfriend came forward, stepping onto the mat, motioning for the initiates to back away. "I believe you gave up your rights to control training years ago."

"I think you've pushed them hard enough for the day. Their done."

"Pushed them? They're weak - the fucking whine lot of them." Eric snapped furiously as he leadership was one again questioned by the former Abnegation. "We train soldiers, not children. We prepare them."

"And what exactly are you preparing them for Eric? Another uprising?" Four said, his voice low, mentioning the events that had taken place five years before.

"How very original, Numbers Boy." Eric raised his pierced brow. "Same song and dance every year since the last."

"I don't know how Zeke allowed you to keep your position after the uprising which you were a key part of leading."

It wasn't something that he had not forgotten. He hadn't forgotten the time period when he had been no more than Jeanine Matthews's lapdog.

He hadn't forgotten Tris's eyes as he pressed the gun to her forehead, his finger on the trigger. He hadn't forgotten her lips trembling, her fingers touching his face, not pleading for her life but saying his name.

His decision to accept her Divergence as well as his as he turned the gun on Jeanine.

He still dreamed of it - the blood and the death.

No, he hadn't forgotten.

"And if you remember, I'm also the one who ended." Eric scoffed savagely, his tone mocking. "I've accepted the blood on my hands. Have you?"

Four had been no innocent. He had killed many in the battle, people he had been friends with.

Four exploded into motion, snarling viciously, driving one shoulder against Eric, knocking him off balance.

"Four, you don't want to play this game."

"Why not? It's a game I always win." Four taunted. "You'll fail in front of your initiates just like you failed her."

 _"_ _ _You failed her."__

The words mocked him.

Eric exploded into motion as they battled in their quest for the upper-hand dominance. To prove their importance, to prove their stature in Dauntless.

In Tris's heart.

Eric drove his knee upwards, slamming into his stomach, and again on the nose with an undercut that cracked resoundingly and sent his Four's head whipping back, choked guttural sounds exploded from him, then he gasped soundlessly. Still holding him, Eric viciously kicked his legs out from under him, and Four went flying to the mat.

"Care to try again, my friend?" He stood above Four, his loosely clenched dangling at his sides as he spoke very softly, his voice so slow and husky, a cold deadly smile twisted his lips at the satisfaction he felt in the words. "See boy, there is one thing you've failed to accept. I've had Tris, I've tasted her, had her moan my name in a way you will never know. She will never be only yours as she is mine."

And that was when he heard it, the clapping.

He turned to find Tris standing behind him lightly clapping, a mocking smile gracing her lips, her eyes dark as the met his, tilting her head in a silent challenge.

She saw his pupils widen in disbelief, then the chill in his eyes was swallowed by pure fire as he stalked across the training room towards her, his hair tangled, his chest heaving.

He stepped closer to her, close enough that she had to tilt her chin to maintain eye contact, close enough to intrude into her personal space and subtly threaten her.

She could almost taste the fury and frustration and something more, a longing to deep for words, carefully buried needs.

Her stomach clenched. It was a mixture of thrilling and horrible reality to watch his mouth curve, slow and devilish, in that familiar smile. She could easily become lost in the dangerous and captivating power in the man that women now shuddered over.

"We have a lot to talk about." Eric stated, his husky voice breaking the tense, thick barrier she had erected within moments.

"Do we really? How very curious." her laughter was slight, her voice steady despite nerves twining together in her throat. "I honestly can't think of thing I have to say to you."

"Then I'll do the talking and you can expand on a new concept," he suggested, lifting his fingers, lightly tracing the three birds resting below her collarbone, her skin scolded by the barest touch. "Like listening per chance."

"Listening to you?" Tris scoffed, rolling her eyes. "That's fucking rich."

"Where the hell have you been?" Eric demanded furiously, lowly, deadly, a terrifying hiss as he stepped closer, catching her arm in a painful grasp and with one motion brought her colliding with his hard body. His mouth came down, ravaging, hissing as her teeth racked across his bottom lip.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Zeke Pedrad roared, his tone confused, as he took in the scene before him. His head of Intelligence laying on the black training mats bleeding, his two leaders trapped in an embrace that he couldn't decide if it would end in blood or sex. "Goddamit. Prior get the hell out of my sight. We'll deal with you little extended absence shortly. Eric, my office. Now.

* * *

SOMEWHERE IN THE NEAR FUTURE  
SATURDAY - 6:15 P.M.  
ERIC COULTER

"What the hell are you thinking?" Zeke Pedrad roared, slamming the door behind him, flinging his touchpad across the room until it collided with the back wall shattering. "Or are you even thinking with something other than your dick. We are here to train soldiers not angry little boys trying to one up each other in order to impress a girl."

"It was a simple difference of opinion," Eric smirked, gesturing a hand, drawing attention to his knuckles that were bloody and bruised. "I know he's a jackass. Apparently, he doesn't agree."

"You did exactly what I told you not to do. You let it get personal." Zeke laughed, his tone hardening at Eric's wince. "I know what you know what you did, Eric. What you, my brother and Will all did. You royally fucked up. And know you get to live with that decision. But this is shit is unacceptable. Change is coming my fried and its coming swiftly. Get your head in the game."

* * *

SOMEWHERE IN THE NEAR FUTURE  
SATURDAY - 10:13 P.M.  
TRIS PRIOR

It turned out to be easier than she originally anticipated.

Running that is.

In fact, it was actually almost…simple.

Escaping into the late hours of the evening, her eyes burning from fatigue as she raced towards the oncoming train, the winds whipped harshly against her cheeks, tangling her hair into a chestnut coil as, it was all too easy.

And it had seemed so endless. A haunting nightmare of a lost highway.

In the days that followed wonderful, protective blankness had faded until all the pain of betrayal, love scorned, burst in tearing sobs that felt as if they were rupturing her chest, shredding her throat. She would have screamed with the pain breaking her if she had been able to draw enough breath.

She hadn't want to feel, she didn't want to think, to move. His presence overwhelmed her, brought too much pain for her to handle. She couldn't examine it, she couldn't face it.

It had been like a series of black and white film clips, slow fades, jump cuts, freeze frame stills, an alarmingly noirish sequence flashing through her mind. A nightmarishly real ride through her life, forever restless, obsessed by motion, change, death and highways. Memories that caused to her shudder, the memories that had scarred her, her Divergence, her parents disappointed anger of her abandoning her old faction, the jealously of the endless parade of Eric's toys, and the overwhelming deceit of her friend's bet against her.

It was almost too much.

But she had survived each, molding her to this point, and she knew this was her opportunity to be stronger than she had ever dreamed.

Quiet weakness was for the timid. And she simply refused to comply to that status ever again.

So she had returned home to Dauntless. To the whispers, to the rumors.

To him.

To him and Four fighting. Again. In some way it had brought her comfort.

Christina had been furious, yelling at her for staying away some long before hugging her hard and telling her that they were going to the Pit tonight for the party. Christina had insisted that it was only for backup as she wanted to dance and flirt with boys just to piss Will off some more.

And somehow she knew she was walking into the lions den.

* * *

SOMEWHERE IN THE NEAR FUTURE  
SATURDAY - 10:55 P.M.  
ERIC COULTER

Look at me, he commanded silently, watching as Tris danced with Christina in the middle of the Pit.

She felt his gaze, returning his challenge for a moment, before pointedly turning her head, ignoring him once again.

This had gone on for to long. Even her snapping at him was better than this accusatory silence.

Eric's gaze drifted down her body, drinking in the way it swayed, inhaling every detail from the curve of her neck, to her rounded hips, and down further to her shapely legs.

He was addicted, she was his drug. He couldn't give her up, not for anyone, not even herself.

"You could always ask her to dance," a soft voice in his ear whispered as an old lover, Noelle, came to stand beside him, her gaze following his.

"She's doing it to piss me off," he said, a faint smile curling his lips. He watched as Tris giggled, drawing her lower lip between her teeth. "And you know what, its working."

"Are you really so stupid Eric?"

"What are talking about?" he asked, almost annoyed.

"You're dead without her." Noelle sighed deeply, suppressing her tears she could still feel after a year after their breakup. "Any girl would want that."

"I'm not jealous." He stated, taking a deep drink of whiskey. "Not really.

"Then watch her dance, touch another man, it shouldn't be hard."

Eric said nothing to her but instead turned, demanding a refill of his drink.

"And you proved my point beautifully. There's the spark. It's her." She pushed away from him. "To bad you realize it only to late."

Anger coursed through his veins, driving him made with possessive fury, because she was supposed to be his. Her body was supposed to move under his hands, her lips were his to tease.

Be damned if he would let another touch her.

Tris bit her lip softly, startled at the feeling of his hand around her waist, pulling her body closer. It annoyed her another's touch made her feel guilty like she was cheating.

"Come on, Trissy." Peter Hayes, murmured as he lowered his head, attempting to brush his lips across hers. "I can fix you. Make you feel real good. Better than Coulter ever could."

She felt trapped, sick. She knew that much.

"I need to go the restroom."

She slid past his arms, ignoring his look of annoyance as she drew in a shaky breath, headed for the bathroom.

She was ready to turn the knob when a hand reached around her, covering hers.

"I've missed you." Eric's voice made a deep rumble sending a shiver down her spine.

"I can't imagine why," she said flatly. "Your little girlfriend over there seems content to occupy your time."

"Are you jealous?"

Mutely she kept her eyes focused on the door, trying not to think of the strength clasping her hand, the muscles of his thighs, making his desire obvious.

Eric dipped his head, his mouth warm, touching the soft bare skin of her shoulder, whispering.

"She's not you."

Tris closed her eyes, savoring the words, before she felt an aching anger begin to boil in the pit of her stomach.

"No," she pushed his hands from her body, stepping back from him, her full lips quivering before she tightly pressed them together.

"Tris." uselessly he grasped for her.

"No dammit! You can't say these wonderful things and expect me to fall willingly into your arms!" Her arms spread out, drawing attention, their dancing slowing ceasing to watch the entertainment. "You used for your own gain. I'm supposed to magically forgive you?"

"I know you Tris." he warned, his eyes glittered dangerously as he moved closer to her, invading her personal space, pushing to see how close he could get before she broke. She stood her ground, her chin pointed definitely. "I know that look on your face, the one where you think no one will notice you're ready to die on the inside. I saw it the morning you ran from me. I'm seeing it now." His voice became gravely, low and intense, and he maintained contact, daring her to look away.

"Stop," she whispered throatily. Was it a plea? She was not quite sure. Not when those hypnotic blue eyes were boring into her soul

He captured her lips roughly, pouring all of himself, all of his fear, his hurt, his anger into the kiss. She parted her teeth and he moved his tongue deep inside, plundering her mouth, touching with his in a blatant manner, a hunger so intense and greedy that it stunned her. He pushed one hand into her glossy hair, pulling her head towards his. She cried out slightly at the sudden pain, but he ignored it, to needy himself. Their tongues licked, caressed, biting one another desperately, trying to imprint the memory. His hardened body crushed against her as his lips trailed over her jaw down to her neck, fiercely sucking, marking her as his.

"Stop!"

She struggled, trying to free herself for his grip, for his power. He only held her tighter, which made her twist all the more, her voice catching, but still he held on, not letting her go. She wedged her palms between their bodies, pushing hard against his chest so he stumbled back and she quickly slipped into the bathroom, locking the door behind her as her protection.

She bit her lips, her stomach dropping in shocked fear.

How could she have allowed to happen? How could she still want to sink into his warmth, revel in his strength, trust him for his protection.

Tris stood with his forehead resting on the door, his hand flattened against the wooden panel as if he could will her to listen.

"Tris, I know that I hurt you," he said rawly.

She felt her lips tremble, tears glossing her eyes at his pure honesty, the trust behind his words, but she could not bring herself to speak.

And he finally broke.

"Open the fucking door!" he roared, his fist slamming into the door. "Don't lock me out!"

She sank to her knees, anxiety tumbling through, unable to believe his reaction to the situation. How much he had to drink? Was this the liquor speaking?

There was one thing she did realize though.

She was trapped.

He was blocking her only exit.

Fucking hell.


	3. DEAD MAN WALKING

**_Thank you all so much for your reviews - and believe me. Eric isn't forgiven. He still has a lot of crawling to do!_**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything related to Divergent or The Script**

" **I see you standing there but you're already gone  
I'm holding your hand but you're barely holding on  
I'm kissing your lips but it just don't feel the same  
Am I dead there now, left living with the blame"**

The Script, DEAD MAN WALKING

 **TWO WEEKS PRIOR  
FRIDAY - 8:45 P.M.  
CHRISTINA AND WILL'S APARTMENT**

"So for anyone Dauntless to play, allow me to introduce - the reverse bodyshot." Christina explained as she held up a tray of glowing test tubes, a small smirk forming across her face. "Think of this as a tequila shot reversed and far better tasting. First the liquor than the sugar and finally the orange wedge placed anywhere your dirty little mind desires."

Tris was currently stationed in Eric's lap; one arm wrapped his neck, his resting around her waist as his fingers idly traced patterns on her bare thigh, causing her breath to catch with each stroke.

"And I believe our first contestant should be our own birthday girl, Ms. Tris Prior."

Eric felt her body stiffen at Christina's suggestion and he murmured soft reassurances in her ear as she relaxed against him. She giggled at the feeling of his hot breath washing over her ear and neck, squirming against his lap as his fingers tickled her sides.

"All I need is a volunteer."

Tris's mouth dropped open in amazement as almost every guy's hand shot up, even those with girlfriends, and she felt Eric's grip tighten as he let out a possessive snarl and the volunteers reluctantly backed away. She may not be Eric Coulter's girlfriend, but many knew that he would never allow for one to touch her without his consent. She was and had always been marked as his.

"Okay, Eric Coulter it is," Christina let out a satisfied smile as the two leaders stood as she passed Eric his shot.

"Tris, sit in the chair, tilt your head back and please have no qualms about entertaining us." Christina ordered.

Warily Tris complied with Christina's instructions, she couldn't say that the idea did not excite her, it damn well did, especially with Eric standing over her, his eyes darkening.

"Yeah Tris, let's make this fun."

She decided the sprinkle the sugar in a path down her neck to her tattooed collarbone to the exposed swells of her breasts before allowing a few grains to fall across her lips, coating them in the process and the glistening treat looked inviting to Eric.

"It's up to you, if you please," Eric said gesturing towards the orange, his voice dropping to a husky timbre.

"It will be your surprise." Tris teased, winking at him, the alcohol coursing through her veins, giving her an unknown courage.

Christina clapped her hands with glee, Will let out a long low wolf-whistle and Eric's eyes twinkled as he leaned down, a tiny knot of anticipation forming her stomach. This was her chance to finally enjoy the feeling of Eric's lips sliding across her flesh even if it was only for a moment.

Eric tilted his head back, taking his shot like a seasoned pro before leaning forward, the tip of his tongue lightly touching her neck. He drew out his torture, her eyes sliding shut as his tongue traced down her neck. He reach the base of her neck, his teeth sinking down into the tendons, his mouth clamping over the sensitive flesh, marking her against the others who had tried to approach her all evening to be near what he considered his. She let out a moan, her hands threading through his silky strands as his lips trailed down further, their rough surface caressing her breasts, before gently nipping at each swell. Her eyes fluttered open as he raised his head, watching when she taunted him, raising the orange higher until it hovered dangerously close to her lips. He leaned back down, his tongue caressing her lower lip, gathering the last of the sugar grains before sinking his teeth in the orange. Juice spilled down her fingers and he spit the orange to the side before gripping her wrist, sucking at her fingers, cleaning the sticky substance from her skin.

The room erupted in maze of cat calls of encouragement and jealous shrieks and Christina excitedly pulled a dazed Tris from her seat.

"Okay Trissy, it's your turn." Christina leaned in closer. "And never are you allowed to tell me that I didn't give you the best birthday present ever."

"You are so wicked," Tris whispered as Eric collapsed into the chair she had previously occupied. "And I love you for it."

"You ready for me, Tris?" she could barely contain her eye roll at his cocky tone, grabbing the awaiting tube from Christina's fingers.

Eric wasted no time as he pulled off his black shirt, dropping it to the side, exposing his sculpted chest. He ran his hand down the length, sprinkling the sugar into a line down his stomach, smirking at Tris suggestively. He placed the orange slice between his white teeth, leaning back until he was comfortable, his fingers lacing behind his neck.

He was all arrogance and cock swagger, Tris thought, as she narrowed her eyes at him. If he wanted a show, she would give him one.

She threw her shot back, the fruity liquor easily sliding down her throat before dropping to her knees, gracefully crawling the short distance to his feet in a movement so slow he knew it had to be deliberate. She placed her palms on his knees, glancing up at him through thick lashes before pushing his legs further apart. She slid her hands up his thighs, licking the muscles of his abdomen, gathering the sugar on her tongue. Eric stiffened having not anticipated her move, his breath growing ragged as her tongue caressed his firm skin, her teeth nipping at him, her fingers tracing over the muscle, through the silky chest hair. She pushed his shoulders back against the chair, straddling his hips, the ridge of his erection grinding against the soft junction of her thighs. He swallowed, his fingers shifting to smooth over the taunt curves of her waist as she sucked the orange wedge from his mouth, the juice trickling into hers. She dropped the slice before her head tilted to the side, her tongue sliding over his.

Her body sagged against his, a silent moan of surrender, his mouth ravaged hers deep and fierce. He took her bottom lip between his teeth, sucking lightly, before plunging and her tongue curled around his, licking, moaning in satisfaction at his taste.

"It would be so good, Tris." he breathed the words against her lips. "We would be so good."

Her fingers curved around his neck, plunging into the soft thick hair at his nape, holding his head, twisting hers to the side in order for his tongue to slide deeper, until she pulled back, panting.

"Fuck!" Will voice boomed out, immediately breaking the mood. "After that I need to get laid or have many drinks. Who's next?"

Eric's darkened gaze remained steady friend until he looked down at Tris's dazed expression, his annoyance fading and the predatory gleam returned.

He flexed his thigh where she was still stationed, dragging her aching mound against the sculpted muscle, the soft material of her panties teasing her until she whimpered lightly.

"Dance with me."

* * *

 **SOMEWHERE IN THE NEAR FUTURE  
SATURDAY - THE BATHROOM  
TRIS PRIOR**

Eric gave the door one last heavy punch as Tris sat inside its locked confines, her eyes widening in disbelief as she stared at the black surface.

In her opinion it was official. Eric had lost his ever fucking mind.

And it was her fault.

The thought caused a small smile to settle across her features until she heard his whisper.

"You're a coward."

"I'm a coward?" she shrieked, snapping to her feet. "You're the one trying to knock the bathdoor down. You're fucking insane."

"Open the door and say it to my face. I dare you." Eric taunted and Tris felt her hands curl into fists at her side. "Or are you too scared?"

She opened her mouth, her hand preparing to grip the door handle when she heard Peter's voice snapping at Eric.

"Christ Coulter, you've already fucked that shit and well from what I understand. Why don't you step aside and let me have a taste of it." Peter said, resting his hand on Eric's shoulder. "Players share."

The control on Eric's temper snapped, his fist connecting with Peter's nose, blood splattering down his hand, covering his shirt as he attempted to stop the disgusting words spewing from his mouth. Peter lunged at him, their fists connecting as they strained against one another, slamming into the surrounding walls in their struggle.

Tris groaned, quickly throwing the door open, her sudden appearance distracting Eric into stepping back from Peter. She reached out latching onto his ear, wrenching it as she pulled him towards the bathroom, shoving him in effectively ending the fight.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she demanded as she slammed the door shut once again, quickly turning the lock in case Peter tried to enter the room.

Eric sat on the toilet lid, one hand rubbing his injured ear and the other grasping his sore ribs.

"I was fucking defending you," he snapped. "He wants to use you."

"Just like you?" she grabbed a wash cloth, running it under the cold water before wiping it down the side of his face, cleaning the blood from the corner of his mouth and he unknowingly leaned into her touch. "I don't need your protection against little boys like Peter. I can take care of myself."

"You were rubbing on him, fucking teasing him, promising what's mine." Eric hissed. "No wonder he thinks you'll spread your legs for him."

Tris's hand lashed out, forcefully cracking him across the cheek. Eric stilled for a moment, his cheek a burning read, but he dared not move his stifle the sting.

"Fuck you."

Eric snapped to his feet, his rage finally boiling over. Talking to her had become like ramming his head into a brick wall with no results. Whatever he said made his situation worse.

He finally had enough. She was going to listen to him, whether willing or not.

"Tell me you still love me," he demanded, his gaze intently holding hers in mirror. "That you still need me."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" she groaned, unable to believe his nerve.

"Do you know how frustrating it is for me to be near you, around you, but not be with you? Every second that I don't spend thinking of you, of what we could be, is not worth mentioning. Not being able to wake up with you in my arms, not having you next to me in training, not being able to touch you, is not worth it. I have to be a part of your life. The most important part. Not one bet, one fucking mistake, was worth the relationship I have with you. You have to know that."

"Our relationship? What relationship? Whatever we had, it's certainly gone now, isn't it? All you had to do was choose Eric," Tris said, pushing him back. "You fucking used me for your own end, because you could never make up your mind. You sure as hell didn't want me, but no one else was ever allowed either. I know about the threats you put out."

She was resisting with all of her strength, because she knew she would always be in love with him, but she also hated him, hated him for this, and couldn't forgive, not now, not yet.

"You chose the bet, the money over me. You wanted the power, praise, the goddamn status. And you could have had everything with me Eric. I don't think ever even think you realized that, but you could have." Her voice had been steadily rising, her eyes crinkled in pain, her hair disheveled, but she had never been more beautiful to him. "I can't trust you. I thought I could, but I can't."

"I would walk the world for you," Eric's voice was low and intense, shaken as the final realization of what he had done, what he had lost sunk in.

He always believed that he had time. That she would always love him. That he would be able to play until he could settle. And now it was too late.

"Then why not an extra mile?" she whispered. "You had your chance."

"Tell me I'm selfish, that I'm a bastard, because it's true, all of it." Eric could feel her slipping from his reach and this was his last attempt to hold on. He was frantic and desperate, but she was the only one that could make things right. "I've fallen in love with you."

"Don't." she ordered. "You have no right –"

"Why not?" he demanded furious. "This may be the only time I can say it, so I'm saying it now. You're the only thing I've ever truly ever wanted, ever cared about, and I fucked that up. Again. I know this, but I'll do anything you want to make it right."

She wrapped her arms around her middle, staring at the floor, not answering him as he creeped closer.

"What do I have to say? Fuck, I'm sorry." he demanded, grabbing her hips, pulling her close to his body, unable to stop touching her. "Tell me what I have to do, tell me how long and low you need me to crawl. I'll do it. I'll do it for as long as it takes. You're not going to push me out of your life, because I was stupid, because I was afaird. I won't let you."

Was this how a man begged? she wondered. With his eyes flashing fire, still managing to look arrogance and a booming voice.

"Tell me this isn't worth it and I'll leave you alone."

He brought his lips to hers, and held her hands so that she couldn't push him away, kissing her desperately until she began to respond. She dragged her nails down his throat as she fought to get closer to him.

She knew the price of this union.

She understood what it meant for her. Tomorrow, tomorrow she could be strong again.

"Tell me."

"It changes nothing," she gasped, intoxicated on the feeling of his roughness moving against her frantically, whimpering.

"Liar." He breathed the words against her lips before he captured her lips roughly again. He gripped the material of her thin, minidress yanking it over head,ripping her underwear, leaving her clad in only her strappy stiletto heels before he shoved his dark jeans down his legs.

He lifted her to the bathroom counter, stepping between her open thighs, desperate to be with her.

Needing to feel the hot slide of his flesh into her, she raised her hips in silent invitation, but he held back, cupping her chin in his hand and turning her face so he could look at her as he slowly penetrated.

The sensation made both of them catch their breaths; his breath mingling with hers as he made a small moved that lodged him deeper.

"All right?" he asked in a soft, guttural tone.

"Yes." The word was barely audible.

His shoulders were rigid with tension as his thrusts were harder and faster, his mouth hungry over hers. Tris cried out, the sound muffled. She felt the thick ride of his penis head moving back and forth inside of her, and her inner muscles clamped down, milking him.

He slid his large hands over her sides, working his lean hips with practiced ease. She couldn't stop the moan working its way into her throat as he ran his flat palm over her neck, chest and stomach in a dominant, possessive caress.

She ached, burning, when he suddenly pulled out of her and ordered, "Turn around."

Tris immediately obeyed, sliding off of the counter, turning, staring at their reflection, their golden skin glistening as he grasped her hips and entered her roughly, past gentleness then. His hips slammed against hers, the force driving her down to her elbows. She moaned with every thrust, getting louder and louder, neither caring if anyone heard them.

"I love you." he whispered the words and she clamped down on her tongue in effort to not give him what he desired.

Eric slipped one around her and pinched her clit with his thumb and forefinger. He could feel his balls tighten as they slapped her ass. Suddenly she screamed and her walls squeezed around him in a tight vise as she exploded with her orgasm. Her hips bucked and thrashed and he held on tightly so she wouldn't unsit him.

The contractions of her wet walls made his load burst and he drenched her inside with his cum. His hips pumped weakly as he tried his hardest to maintain the sweet feeling.

He wanted to feel that she still loved him, that this was just not sex to her.

He collapsed against her back, each heavily panting, his blue burning as they met hers in the mirror, the shock the force of what had occurred reflecting over Tris's features.

What had she done?

"Tell me this isn't worth fighting for," he whispered, breathlessly, intent.

"I can't."

" **Oh I hear the angels talking talking talking  
Now I'm a dead man walking walking walking"**


End file.
